Chapter 3
NOAH
Walking away is necessary. But f**k, I wish I weren’t.
Not when my thoughts are still on that cute-arsed waitress.
My father’s watch was still on my mind as I wandered from my Midtown mess of an apartment to Manhattan’s dark streets, the taste of nicotine and scotch still on my lips.
A glass of my best dark liquor couldn’t erase the worry. Neither could the cigarette.
One hand in my dark slacks, the other tangled in my dark hair, I don’t even look up from the uneven pavement under my feet until I hear the sounds of sultry music on the street.
That’s when I glanced up to find a street sign reading The Alchemist overhead and decided I could do worse. I strolled in, new knots working into my shoulders as I slumped in a worn leather stool at the bar.
I just needed the li
